


Evangeline: Chapter 1 - The City of Chains

by LadyRoku



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-07
Updated: 2011-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRoku/pseuds/LadyRoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke's life in Kirkwall begins with a trip to Darktown to locate Anders and his map of the Deep Roads. Spoiler warning for the first time Hawke meets Anders in his clinic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evangeline: Chapter 1 - The City of Chains

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be the first chapter in a series about my custom Hawke (Evangeline), but I got really bored while writing this and only did so because it's where her adventures began. I'm thinking of only writing the bits in between in-game quests, with more dialogue, but please do let me know if you're interested in seeing me continue in this vein (covering the main quests with detailed narration)!

Freedom! At last, they had earned their freedom. The stress of being bound by loyalty, of having to do things they wouldn't have done otherwise, of having a superior—that had all vanished. Their freedom only went so far as the coin in their pockets, but at least their family had earned the privilege (if one could call it that) of residing in Kirkwall, and that was a start. Freedom in the City of Chains...Evangeline Hawke chuckled at the irony.

It was just days ago that she and her brother had petitioned Bartrand to accompany him on an expedition into the Deep Roads. Carver seemed most concerned about evading the Templars, but Evangeline wanted more. Such an expedition was bound to earn them a decent amount of coin, or better social standing, at least. It still infuriated her that they had rested all their hopes upon Kirkwall, and had fled there only to discover that their pathetic uncle Gamlen had given up Mother's entire inheritance to settle his debts. Hawke wanted her life back, and she was determined to get it.

Presently, she and her party were searching for an ex-Grey Warden by the name of Anders; it was rumored that he carried a map of the Deep Roads, which would prove invaluable to Bartrand's plans.

"Suppose he doesn't have this map, Varric?" asked a cynical male voice. "What of the expedition then?"

"Don't start, Carver," Evangeline interrupted with unabashed annoyance.

"We're traveling on nothing but hearsay! If he doesn't have a map after all, this trip will have been for nothing. I can't stand Darktown."

"Relax, you two," the dwarf beside Carver calmly interjected. "If all else fails, maybe we can drop a pin on the ground and see which way it points." The dwarf, Varric, was the younger brother of Bartrand, and despite his sense of humor on the matter, he was rather interested in the expedition's success. He was the one who had given them the lead to Anders.

The Undercity smelled worse than Gamlen's house, like boiled cabbage and filthy undergarments with added notes of despair, self-loathing, and dead rodents. Masses of rag-clad bodies flooded the dim alleys, and scattered among them were beggars hunched on the ground in weariness, arms outstretched toward the crowd. Hawke and her two companions pushed their way through the throngs of people; clearly they did not belong—they looked clean and didn't slouch—and they garnered some spiteful glances as a result.

 _Look for the lit lantern, and Anders will be within_ , that woman Lirene had told them. Whatever that meant.

"Perhaps we could use your pin technique to find this ex-Warden, Varric," the woman half-humorously suggested. "I've been on several jobs in this area, but I don't recall word of any clinic." It appeared Anders hid himself well, as any free mage should. Hawke had come across many interesting characters during her time in Kirkwall, but oddly, no other mages such as herself—at least, none that weren't bound by the Circle. She wouldn't have admitted it aloud, but she was slightly anxious to meet him.

"You know," Varric replied, "we could always stop someone and ask for directions. The folks down here seem pretty friendly, don't you think?"

~

As she drew nearer, the coughing and whining of the sick and injured clued her in to the clinic's location. She pushed back the splintered wooden door just in time to witness a mage working his craft by the light of a single lantern, glowing like a glimmer of hope in this dark and desolate town. Blue tendrils spilled out from the mage's fingertips over a sick body on a shabby wooden bed; the body appeared to be that of a boy.

The tendrils vanished, the rejuvenated boy sat up, and the man, presumably Anders, heaved with weariness. Hawke assumed he'd had a long day tending to the ill, and there were still patients waiting in line. She took his brief pause as her chance, and approached him from behind, with Carver and Varric at her heels.

As if sensing their presence, he whipped around, grabbing his staff, ready to attack. "I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation," he proclaimed. "Why do you threaten it?" His arms were outstretched as though doing so protected his space.

"Put that down," Hawke said, motioning to his staff. "I just want to know about the Deep Roads."

"The Deep Roads?!" he repeated with a grimace. He rested his arms, but the crazed glare on his face remained. "Did the Wardens send you to bring me back? I'm not going! Those bastards made me get rid of my cat." He shifted his weight and continued, as if to himself, "Poor Ser Pounce-a-lot. He hated the Deep Roads."

Hawke raised an eyebrow quizzically. "You had a cat named...Ser Pounce-a-lot?"

"He was a gift," Anders answered in defense. "A noble beast." He smiled as he recalled an event in which his cat had bravely swiped a darkspawn on the nose. Apparently, the Wardens had forced him to give his pet to a friend because they thought it made him too soft.

None of this mattered to Hawke, however. She took an assertive step forward, as she was annoyed with the distraction. "Look, I need to know how to get into the Deep Roads. You can tell me willingly or not."

The dwarf stepped into Hawke's line of view. "Hawke, I wouldn't-" began Varric in a hushed voice before the mage herself cut him off.

"I can handle this," she snapped under her breath. The dwarf put his hands up mimicking surrender and stepped back into his previous position.

Meanwhile, Anders had resumed his defensive stance. "Don't threaten me, little girl," he said with a scowl. Hawke snorted, unsure whether to be offended or amused. With her short, red hair, stern eyes, and intimidating stance (or so everyone told her), she had trouble ingesting the male mage's poor attempt at an insult. He continued, "You can't imagine what I've come through to get here. I'm not interested in—although...a favor for a favor. Does that sound like a fair deal? You help me, I'll help you."

An exasperated sigh escaped the woman's lips; did everything in this city come with strings attached? "Forget it. We'll get to the Deep Roads ourselves," she responded, and turned on her heels toward the exit.

"Well, you handled that REAL well," muttered Carver sarcastically to his elder sister as he followed her out.

"Wait!" cried Anders. Everyone in the party spun back around except Hawke, who merely stopped in her tracks. Anders began, "I have a friend in need of aid...a mage, a prisoner in in the wretched Gallows. Help me bring him safely past the Templars, and you shall have your maps."

The female mage turned to face him. "Tell me about this...friend," she spoke, walking toward him with her interest piqued.

Anders relayed information; the mage's name was Karl, and he had been transported from Ferelden's Circle to Kirkwall's some time ago. "His last letter said the Knight-Commander was turning the Circle into a prison. Mages are locked in their cell, refused appearances at court, made Tranquil for the slightest crimes. I told him I would come."

Hawke had heard other horror stories about this Knight-Commander during her past year in Kirkwall; she sounded overbearingly strict, ruthless, and determined to pinch every mage and Templar under her command. "Are these accusations true?"

"Ask any mage in the Circle. Already a dozen were made Tranquil in a year." He continued bitterly, "The more people you ask, the worse the rumors become."

The two mages continued to exchange information, and gradually, they were easing up with each other. Hawke began to take notice of Anders' appearance. He was lean and tall, and possessed strong features. His dark blonde hair was tied back from his face in a half ponytail, revealing a broad forehead, pronounced nose, and warm, brown eyes that held compassion and kindness at once with anger and pain. As he spoke about his imprisoned friend and the horrors of the Circle, he bore the facade of a man holding his madness in check, of trying to act civil while something burned inside him. It was as though he had two selves, one itching to burst from his skin in rage.

Carver leaned in toward his sister and muttered close to her ear, "Are you seriously considering this? There will be Templars at the Gallows—a lot of Templars. They could be waiting for us. For you."

She waved Carver away with a roll of her eyes, muttering something about how the bloody Templars could kiss her ass, and continued with Anders, "I am interested, but you realize your friend will be considered an apostate?"

He sighed. "That's such a weighted term," he complained. "Yes. Andraste said magic should serve man, not rule him, but I've yet to find a mage who wants to rule anything. It goes against no will of the Maker for mages to live as free as other men."

"I agree. Forcing mages into servitude is not the way to prevent the rise of another Imperium."

Anders smiled; his face softened as he did so, causing the ready-to-burst look to vanish, and for the first time, Hawke thought she saw past the embittered exterior to the charming man hidden beneath. "That's not ususally the response I get. Perhaps we will work better than I expected."

I hope we do, she thought with a smirk. "I would help any mage in such circumstances, map or no," she admitted truthfully. "I am an 'apostate' myself, after all." She pronounced "apostate" with a hint of distaste, as if mocking their term for mages like her.

"Now you're just trying to get on my good side!" he mused as a grin spread across his face. "I welcome your aid. I have already sent word for Karl to meet me in the Chantry tonight. Join us there, and we'll ensure that no matter who is with him, we'll walk away free."


End file.
